"You're frowning." Lisa walked up behind me slowly. Her head cocked to the side making her dark hair fall over the side of her face. She tucked it behind an ear and moved closer. "Why are you doing that, hmm?"

I'd been putting together dinner. I'd found pizza crusts in the freezer so I took them out to defrost and started cutting up toppings and grating cheese, while worrying about what Rosé had told me, of course. The house didn't seem so welcoming anymore. Armed with the knowledge that it had been bought with another woman in mind, my feelings toward the place had shifted. I was back to feeling like an interloper. Horrible but true. Insecurities sucked.

"Gimme." From behind me she snagged my wrist and brought my hand to her mouth, sucking a smear of tomato paste from my finger. "Mm. Yum."

My stomach squeezed tight in response. God, her mouth on me that morning. Her plans for us tonight. It all felt like a dream, a crazy beautiful dream that I didn't want to wake from. Nor did I need to. All would be well. We'd work things out. We were married again now, committed. She snaked an arm around me and pressed herself against my back, leaving no room between us for doubt.

"How are things going downstairs?" I asked.

"Real good. We've got four songs shaping up nicely. Sorry we ran a bit over," she said, planting a kiss on the side of my neck, chasing the last of the bad thoughts far away. "But now it's our time."

"Good."

"Making pizza?"

"Yeah."

"Can I help?" she asked, still nuzzling the side of my neck. She made me shivery. Right up until she stopped. "You're putting broccoli on it?"

"I like vegetables on pizza."

"Zucchini, too. Huh." Her voice sounded slightly incredulous and she perched her chin on my shoulder. "How about that?"

"And bacon, sausage, mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes and three different types of cheeses." I pointed the chopping knife at my excellent collection of ingredients. "Wait till you taste them. They're going to be the best pizzas ever."

"Course they are. Here, I'll put them together." She turned me to face her, rearing back when my chopping knife accidentally waved at her. Her hands fastened onto my hips and she lifted me up onto the kitchen island. "Keep me company."

"Sure thing."

From the fridge she took a beer for her and a soda for me, since I was still avoiding alcohol. Tyler and Jack's voices drifted through from the lounge room.

"We working again tomorrow?" Tyler called out.

"Sorry, man. We gotta head back to LA," said Lisa, washing her hands at the sink. She had great hands, long, strong fingers. "Give me a couple of days to sort shit out down there then we'll be up again."

Tyler stuck his head around the corner, giving me a wave. "Sounds good. The new stuff is coming together well. Bringing Ben and Jimmy back with you next time?"

Lisa's brow wrinkled, her eyes not so happy. "Yeah, I'll see what they're up to."

"Cool. Pammy's outside, so I gotta run. It's date night."

"Have fun." I waved back.

Tyler grinned. "Always do."

Chuckling quietly, Jack ambled in. "Date night, seriously … what the fuck is that about? Old people are the weirdest. Dude, you can't put broccoli on pizza."

"Yeah, you can." Lisa kept busy, scattering peppers around the little trees of broccoli.

"No," said Jackson. "That's just not right."

"Shut up. Jennie wants broccoli on the pizza, then that's what she gets."

Ice-cold lovely sweet soda slid down my throat, feeling all sorts of good. "Don't stress, Jack. Vegetables are your friend."

"You lie, child bride." His mouth stretched wide in disgust and he retrieved a bottle of juice from the fridge. "Never mind. I'll just pick it off."

"No, you're going out," said Lisa. "Me and Jen are having date night too."

"What? You're fucking kidding me. Where am I supposed to go?"

Lisa just shrugged and scattered pepperoni atop her steadily growing creations.

"Oh, come on. Jenney, you'll stand up for me, won't you?" Jack gave me the most pitiful face in all of existence. It was sadness blended with misery with a touch of forlorn on top. He even bent over and laid his head on my knee. "If I stay in town they'll know we're here."

"You've got your car," said Lisa.

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Jack complained. "Don't let her throw me out into the wild. I'll get eaten by fucking bears or something."

"I'm not sure they have bears around here," I said.

"Cut the shit, Jack," said Lisa. "And get your head off my wife's leg."

With a growl, Jack straightened. "Your wife is my friend. She's not going to let you do this to me!"

"That so?" Lisa looked at me and her face fell. "Fuck, baby. No. You cannot be falling for this shit. It's only one night."

I winced. "Maybe we could go up to our room. Or he could just stay downstairs or something."

Lisa shoved her hands through her hair. The bruise on her poor cheek, I needed to kiss it better. Her forehead did that James Dean wrinkling thing as she studied her friend. "Jesus. Stop making that pathetic face at her. Have some dignity."

She cuffed the back of Jack's head, making his long blonde hair fly in his face. Skipping back, Jack retreated beyond the line of fire. "Alright, I'll stay downstairs. I'll even eat your shitty broccoli pizza."

"Lisa." I grabbed her T-shirt and tugged her toward me. And she came, abandoning her pursuit of Jack.

"This is supposed to be our time," she said.

"I know. It will be."

"Yes!" hissed Jack, getting gone while he was ahead. "I'll be downstairs. Yell when dinner's ready."

"He's got a girl in every city," said Lisa. "No way was he sleeping in his car. You've been played."

"Maybe. But I would have worried about him." I tucked her dark hair behind her ears then trailed my hands down to the back of her neck, drawing her closer. The studs in her ears were all small, silver. A skull, an "x" and a super tiny winking diamond. I hadn't noticed it before.

She pressed her earlobe between her thumb and a finger, blocking my view.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"I was just looking at your earrings. Do they mean anything special?"

"Nope." she gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "Why were you frowning earlier?" She picked up a handful of mushrooms and started adding them to the pizzas. "You're doing it again now."

Crap. I kicked my heels, turned all the excuses over inside my head. I had no idea how she'd react to my knowing the things Rosé had told me. What would she think if I asked about them? Starting a fight did not appeal. But lying didn't either. Withholding was lying, deep down where it mattered. I knew that.

"I talked to my friend Rosé today."

"Mmhmm."

I pushed my hands down between my legs and squeezed them tight, delaying. "She's a really big fan."

"Yeah, you said." She gave me a smile. "Am I allowed to meet her or is she off-limits like your dad?"

"You can meet my dad if you want."

"I want. We'll take a trip to Miami sometime soon and I'll introduce you to mine, okay?"

"I'd like that." I took a deep breath, let it out. "Lisa, Rosé told me some things. And I don't want to keep secrets from you. But I don't know how happy you're going to be about these things that she told me."

She turned her head, narrowed her eyes. "Things?"

"About you."

"Ah. I see." She picked up two handfuls of grated cheese and sprinkled them across the pizzas. "So you hadn't looked me up on Wikipedia or some shit?"

"No," I said, horrified at the thought.

She grunted. "It's no big deal. What do you want to know, Jen?"

I didn't know what to say. So I picked up my soda and downed about half of it in one go. Bad idea—it didn't help. Instead, it gave me a mild case of brain freeze, stinging above the bridge of my nose.

"Go on. Ask me whatever you want," she said. She wasn't happy. The angry monobrow from drawing her eyebrows together clued me in to that. I didn't think I'd ever met anyone with such an expressive face as Lisa. Or maybe she just fascinated me full stop.

"Alright. What's your favorite color?"

She scoffed. "That's not one of the things your friend told you about."

"You said I could ask whatever I wanted and I want to know what your favorite color is."

"Black. And I know it's not really a color. I did miss a lot of school, but I was there that day." Her tongue played behind her cheek. "What's yours?"

"Blue." I watched as she opened the gargantuan oven door. The pizza trays clattered against the racks. "What's your favorite song?"

"We're covering all the basics, huh?"

"We are married. I thought it would be nice. We sort of skipped a lot of the getting-to-know you stuff."

"Alright." The side of her mouth kicked up and she gave me a look that said she was onto my game of avoidance. The faint smile set the world to rights.

"I got a lot of favorite music," she said. "'Four Sticks' by Led Zeppelin, that's up there. Yours is 'Need You Now' by Lady Antebellum, as sung by an Elvis impersonator. Sadly."

"Come on, I was under the influence. That's not fair."

"But it is true."

"Maybe." I still wished I could remember it. "Favorite book?"

"I like graphic novels. Stuff like Hellblazer, Preacher."

I took another mouthful of soda, trying to think up a genius question. Only all the blatantly obvious ones appeared inside my head. I sucked at dating. It was probably just as well that we'd skipped that part.

"Wait," she said. "What's yours?"

"Jane Eyre. How about your favorite movie?"

"Evil Dead 2. Yours?"

"Walk the Line."

"The one about the man in black? Nice. Okay." She clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "My turn. Tell me something terrible. Something you did that you've never confessed to another living soul."

"Ooh, good one." Scary, but good. Why couldn't I have thought of a question like that?

She grinned around the top of her bottle of beer, well pleased with herself.

"Let me think …"

"There's a time limit."

I screwed up my face at her. "There is not a time limit."

"There is," she said. "Because you can't try and think up something half assed to tell me. You've gotta give me the first worst thing that comes into your head that you don't want anyone else ever knowing about. This is about honesty."

"Fine," I sniffed. "I kissed a girl named Amanda Harper when I was fifteen."

Her chin rose. "You did?"

"Yes."

She sidled closer, eyes curious. "Did you like it?"

"No. Not really. I mean, it was okay." I gripped the edge of the bench, hunching forward. "She was the school lesbian."

"There was just the one lesbian at your school?"

"Oh, I suspected quite a few people, but only she was open about it. She gave herself the title."

"Good for her." Her hands settled on my knees and pushed them apart, making room for her.

"I was hoping I was bi," I said. "More options. Because, honestly, the guys at school were …"

"They were what?" She gripped my butt and pulled me across the bench, bringing me closer. No way did I resist.

"They didn't really interest me, I guess."

She clicked her tongue. "Damn. That's a sad story. You're cheating, by the way."

"What? How?"

"You were meant to tell me something terrible." Her smile left a mile way behind. "Telling me you tongue-kissed a girl isn't even remotely terrible."

"I never said there was tongue."

"Was there?"

"A little. The briefest of touches, maybe. But then I got weirded out and stopped it."

She took another swig of beer. "Your ear tips are doing the pink thing again."

"I bet they are." I laughed and ducked my head. "I didn't cheat. I never told anyone about that kiss. I was going to take it to my grave. You should feel honored by my trust in you."

"Yeah, but telling me something I'm likely to find a huge turn-on is cheating. You were meant to tell me something terrible. The rules were clear. Go again and give me something bad this time."

"It's a huge turn-on, huh?"

"Next time I hit the shower I'm definitely using that story."

I bit my tongue and looked away. Memories from this morning of Lisa soaping up my hands and then putting them on her assailed my mind. The thought of her masturbating to my brief bout of teen sexual experimentation … 'honored' wasn't quite the right word. But I couldn't say I wasn't pleased by the notion. "Well, remember to make me older. Fifteen is a bit skeevy."

"You only kissed her."

"You'll leave it at that in your head? You'll respect accuracy and legalities, and not take it any further between Amanda and me?"

"Fine, I'll make you older. And wildly fucking curious." She pulled me closer using the hands-on-my-butt method again and I put my arms around her.

"Now, go again, and do it right this time."

"Yeah, yeah."

She gave the side of my neck a lingering kiss. "You weren't lying about Amanda, were you?"

"No."

"Good. I like that story. You should tell it to me often. Now go again."

I ummed and ahhed, procrastinating my little heart out. Lisa rested her forehead against mine with a heavy sigh. "Just fucking tell me something."

"I can't think of anything."

"Bullshit."

"I can't," I whined. Not anything I wanted to share, anyway.

"Tell me."

I groaned and bumped my forehead against hers ever so lightly. "Lisa, come on, you're the last person I want to make myself look bad in front of."

She drew back, inspecting me down the length of her nose. "You're worried about what I think of you?"

"Of course I am."

"You're honest and good, baby. Nothing you might have done is gonna be that bad."

"But honest isn't always good," I said, trying to explain. "I've opened my mouth plenty of times when I shouldn't have. Given people my opinion when I should have kept quiet. I react first and think later. Look at what happened in Vegas, between us. I didn't ask any of the right questions that morning. I'm always going to regret that."

"Vegas was a pretty extreme situation." Her hand rubbed my back, reassuring me. "You got nothing to worry about."

"You asked me how I felt when you had that groupie hanging off you in LA. I dealt with it then. But the fact is, if that happened now and some woman tried to come onto you, I'd probably get stabby. I'm not always going to react well to the rock star hoopla that surrounds you. What happens then?"

She made a noise in her throat. "I dunno, I finally have to realize that you're human? That you fuck up sometimes just like everybody else?"

I didn't answer.

"We'll both screw up, Jen. That's a given. We just gotta be patient with each other." She put a finger beneath my chin, raising it up so she could kiss me. "Now tell me about what Rosé told you today."

I stared at her, caught and cornered. The contents of my stomach curdled for real. I had to tell her. There would be no getting around it. How she reacted was beyond my control. "She told me that your first girlfriend cheated on you."

She blinked. "Yeah. That happened. We'd been together a long time, but … I was always either recording or on the road," she said. "We'd been touring Europe for eight, nine months when it happened. Touring fucks up a lot of couples. The groupies and the whole lifestyle can really screw with you. Being left behind all the time is probably no picnic either."

I bet it wasn't. "When do you tour next?"

She shook her head. "There're none booked. Won't be until we get this new record down, and that hasn't been going so well until now."

"Okay. How does this work? I mean, do you believe what happens on the road, stays on the road?" I asked. The boundaries of our relationship had never really been established. Exactly what did our marriage mean? She wanted us to stick together, but I had school to consider, my job, my life. Maybe the good wives just dumped it all and went with the band. Or maybe wives weren't even invited. I didn't have a clue.

"You asking me if I'm planning on cheating on you?"

"I'm asking how we fit into each other's lives."

"Right." She pinched her lips between her thumb and finger. "Well, I think not fucking around on each other would be a good start. Let's just make that a rule for us, okay? As for the band and stuff, I guess we take it as it comes."

"Agreed."

Without a word she stepped back from me, crossing over to the stairwell. "Jack?"

"What?"

"Close the door down there and lock it," Lisa yelled. "Don't you come up here under any circumstances. Not till I tell you it's okay. Understood?"

There was a pause then Jack yelled back. "What if there's a fire?"

"Burn."

"Fuck you." The door downstairs slammed shut.

"Lock it!"

Jack's reply was muffled but the pissy tone carried just fine. These two were more akin to actual bro-sis than Lisa and her biological sibling. Jimmy was a jerk and just one of the very good reasons we should never return to LA. Sadly, hiding out in Monterey wasn't a viable long-term solution.

School, band, family, friends, blah blah blah.

Lisa reached for the back of her T-shirt and dragged it off over her head. "Rule number two, if I take my shirt off you have to take off yours. The shirt-off rule now applies to these sorts of conversations. I know we need to talk about stuff. But there's no reason we can't make it easier."

"This'll make it easier?" Highly doubtful. All that smooth, hot skin just waiting for my touch and my fingers itching to do so. Keeping my tongue inside my mouth while her flat stomach were revealed tested my moral fortitude no end. All that beautiful inked skin on display, driving any attempt at a coherent thought straight out of my mind. Good God, the woman had some power over me. But wait up, we were married. Morally, I was obliged to ogle my wife. It would be unnatural and wrong to do otherwise.

"Get it off," she said, tipping her chin at my offending items of clothing.

The stairwell sat calm and quiet. No signs of life.

"He ain't coming up here. I promise." Lisa's hands gripped the bottom of my T-shirt and carefully pulled it off over my head, rescuing my ponytail when it got caught.

When she reached for my bra I pressed my forearms to my chest, holding it in place. "Why don't I keep the bra, just in case …"

"It's against the rules. You really wanna go breaking rules already? That's not like you."

"Lisa."

"Jennie." The bra's band relaxed as she undid the clasp. "I need to see your bare breasts, baby. You have no idea how much I fucking love them. Let it go."

"Why do you get to make all the rules?"

"I only made that one. Oh, no—two. We have the cheating rule as well." She tugged at my bra and I eased my grip, letting her take it. No way was I moving my arms though.

"Go on, you make some rules," she said, running her fingers over my arms, making every little hair stand on end.

"Are you just trying to distract me from the conversation with the no clothes thing?"

"Absolutely not. Now make a rule."

My hands stayed tucked beneath my chin, arms covering all the essentials, just in case. "No lies. Not about anything."

"Done."

I nodded, relieved. We could do this marriage thing. I knew it in my head, my heart. We were going to be okay. "I trust you."

She stopped, stared. "Thanks. That's big."

I waited, but she said no more.

"Do you trust me?" I asked, filling the silence. The minute the words left my lips I wanted them back. If I had to demand her faith and affection, it didn't mean a damn thing. Worse than that, it did damage. I could feel it, a sudden jagged wound between us. One that I'd made. Of all the stupid times for me to get impatient! I wished it was the middle of winter so I could go stick my head in a snowdrift.

Her gaze wandered away, over my shoulder. There was my answer right there. Honesty had already shown me who was boss. How about that? I suddenly felt cold and though it had nothing to do with losing my shirt, I really wanted to put it back on.

"I'm getting there, Jen. Just … give me time." Frustration lined her face. She pressed her lips together 'til they whitened. Then she looked me in the eye. Whatever she saw didn't help matters. "Shit."

"It's okay, really," I said, willing it to be true.

"You lying to me?"

"No. No. We'll be fine."

In lieu of an answer she kissed me.

You couldn't beat a well-timed distraction. Heat rushed back into me. Her regret and my hurt both took a back seat when I placed my hands on top of hers. With fingers meshed I moved our combined hands to cover my breasts. We both groaned. The heat of her palms felt sublime. The chill of disappointment couldn't combat it. The chemistry between us won out every time. I had to believe more feelings would follow. My shoulders pushed forward, pressing me harder into her hands as if gravity had shifted toward her. But also, I wanted her mouth. Hell, I wanted to crawl around inside her and read her mind. I wanted everything. Each dark corner of her. Every stray thought.

Our lips met again and she groaned, hands kneading my breasts. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and that fast and easy I ached for her. Needed her. My insides squeezed tight and my legs wrapped around her, holding her tight. Let her try and get away now. I'd fight tooth and nail to keep her. Thumbs stroked over my nipples, teasing me. My hands slid up her arms, curved over her shoulders, holding steady. Hot kisses trailed over my face, my jaw, the side of my neck. Half naked or not, I don't think I'd have cared if my high school marching band paraded through the room. They could bring baton twirlers and all. Only this mattered.

No wonder people took sex so seriously, or not seriously enough at all. Sex addled your wits and stole your body. It was like being lost and found all at once. Frankly, it was a little frightening.

"We will be fine," she said, teasing my earlobe with her teeth. Rubbing her hardness against me. God bless whoever had thought to put a seam right there in jeans. Lights danced before my eyes. Did it feel as good for her? I wanted it to be the best and I wanted her to be right about us being fine.

"Sweet baby, just need time," she said, her warm breath skating over my skin.

"Because of her," I said, needing it to be out there in the open. No secrets.

"Yeah," she said, her voice faint. "Because of her."

The truth bit.

"Jennie, there's just you and me in this. I swear." She returned to my mouth and kissed me as if I was delicate, giving me only the briefest taste of her. An awareness of warmth, the firmness of her lips.

"Wait," I said, making my legs give up their grip on her.

She blinked dark, hazy eyes at me.

"Move back. I want to hop down."

"You do?" Her lovely mouth turned down at the edges. The front of her jeans were in a state of obvious distress. I'd done that to her. A victory lap around the kitchen counter would probably be taking it too far, but still, it felt good. That knowledge sat well within me. The woman didn't do that to Lisa these days. I did.

I shuffled off the edge of the counter and Lisa grabbed my hips, easing my descent to the floor. Just as well. My legs were liquid. She stared down at me, her brow wrinkled.

"There's something I want to do," I explained, fingers shaking from nerves and excitement. First I wrangled with the button of her jeans before moving onto the straining zipper.

Her hands gripped my wrists. "Hey. Wait."

I hesitated, waiting to hear what she had to say. Surely she wouldn't try to tell me she didn't want this. Every guy wanted this, or so I'd been told. She looked perplexed, as if I was a piece that refused to fit the puzzle. I honestly didn't know if she meant to stop me or hurry me onward.

"Is there a problem?" I asked, when she didn't speak.

Slowly she removed her hands from my wrists, setting me free. She held them up like I'd pointed a gun at her. "This is what you want?"

"Yes. Lisa, why is this a big deal? Don't you want my mouth on you?"

A soft smile curved her lips. "You have no idea how much I want that. But this is another first for you, isn't it?"

I nodded, fingers fiddling with the waistband of her jeans, but going no further.

"That's why it's a big deal. I want all your firsts to be perfect. Even this. And I'm pretty fucking worked up here just at the thought of you sucking me."

"Oh."

"I've been thinking about you all damn day. I kept fucking things up, couldn't concentrate for shit. Amazing we got anything done." She pushed her fingers through her long hair, pulling it back from her face. Her hands stayed on top of her head, stretching out her lean. The bruise on her ribs from the bar fight last night was a dark gray smudge, marring perfection. I leaned in, kissing it. Her gaze never left me because my bare breasts were still most definitely a part of me. My eyes, my mouth, my breasts: she couldn't seem to decide what fascinated her the most.

Carefully, I lowered the zipper over her erection. No underwear. At least I didn't jump this time when her hard-on made its sudden appearance. With two hands I pushed down her jeans, freeing her cock. It stood tall and proud. Just like this morning I pressed my hand against the underside, feeling the heat of the silken skin.

Moved and more than a little proprietary.

"You're mine," I whispered, my thumb rubbing around the edge of the head, feeling out the ridge and the dip in the middle. Learning her.

"Yeah."

The sweet spot sat below that little tuck. Over the years, I'd read enough magazines and listened to enough of Rosé's tales of sexcapades to know as much. She did love her details. I made a mental note to thank her, take her out to dinner somewhere nice.

I moved my hand around so that I gripped her and massaged the area with the pad of my thumb, waiting to see what happened. Much easier to see what was going on without the soap bubbles in the way. It didn't take long. Especially not once I tightened my hold on her a little and pumped slightly. Her stomach muscles flinched and danced, the same as they had this morning in the shower. My fingers moved the soft, smooth skin, massaging the hard flesh beneath, pumping once, twice. A bead of milky fluid leaked from the small slit in the top.

"That means you're fucking killing me," my wife supplied helpfully, her voice guttural. "Just in case you were wondering."

I grinned.

She swore.

"I swear it gets bigger every time I see it."

Her smile was lopsided. "You inspire me."

I stroked her again and her chest heaved. "Jennie. Please."

Time to put her out of her misery. I knelt, the floor uncomfortably hard beneath me. If you were going to kneel in front of someone, some minor discomfort seemed an obvious part of the territory. It all added to the atmosphere, the experience. The musky scent of her was stronger later in the day. I took her cock in hand and nuzzled her hip bone, breathing her in deep.

She still watched. I checked to be sure. Hell, her eyes were huge and dark and focused solely on me. Beside her, her hands gripped the counter as if she expected a tremor to hit at any time, knuckles white.

When I took her into my mouth she moaned. My inexperience and her size prevented me from taking her too deep. She didn't seem to mind. The salty taste of her skin and the bitterness of that liquid, the warm scent of her and the feel of her hardness, merged into one unique experience. Pleasing Lisa was a brilliant thing.

She groaned and her hips jerked, pushing her further into my mouth. My throat tightened in surprise and I gagged slightly. Her hand flew to my hair, patting, soothing. "Fuck, baby. Sorry."

I resumed my ministrations, rubbing my tongue against her, drawing on her. Figuring out the best way to fit her into my mouth. Doing everything I could to make her tremble and cuss. What a glorious thing giving head was. Her hand tightened in my hair, pulling some, and I loved it. All of it. Anything with the ability to reduce my world-weary wife to a stammering mess while giving her such pleasure deserved a serious time investment. Her hips shifted restlessly and her cock jerked against my tongue, filling my mouth with that salty, bitter taste faster than I could swallow.

So it was messy. Never mind. My jaw hurt a little. Big deal. And I could have done with a glass of water. But her reaction …

Lisa dropped to her knees and gathered me up in her arms, all the better to squish me against her. My ribs creaked, and her dug into me over and over as she fought for breath. I pressed my face against her shoulder and waited till she'd calmed down some to seek my acclaim.

"Was it okay?" I asked, reasonably certain of a favorable response. Which is always the best time to ask, in my opinion.

She grunted.

That was it? I sat there feeling rather proud of myself and she gave me a grunt. No, I needed more validation than that. I both wanted and deserved it. "Are you sure?"

She sat back on her heels and stared at me. Then she looked around, searching for something. The T-shirt she'd left forgotten on the floor. And then she wiped beneath my chin, cleaning me up. Nice.

"There's some on your shoulder too." I pointed at the unfortunate spillage I'd obviously transferred onto her. She wiped it up as well.

"Sex can get messy," she said.

"Yes, it can."

"You on the pill?"

"You can't get pregnant that way, Lisa."

The side of her mouth twitched. "Cute. Are you on the pill?"

"No, but I have the birth control thing implanted in my arm because my periods are erratic so—" Her mouth slammed over the top of mine, kissing me hard and deep. Shutting me up really effectively. A hand cradled the back of my head as she took me down to the floor, stretching out on top of me. The cold, hard flooring beneath my bare back barely registered. It didn't matter so long as she kissed me. My hands clung to her shoulders, fingers sliding over slick skin.

"I care about your periods, Jen. Honest to fuck I do." She kissed my cheeks, my forehead.

"Thanks."

"But right now I wanna know how you feel about us going bare?"

"You mean more than losing the shirts, I take it?"

"I mean fucking without a condom." Her hands framed my face as she stared down at me, eyes that intense shade of blue. "I'm clean. I've been tested. I don't do drugs and I always used protection, ever since I broke up with her. But it's your call."

The mention of "her" cooled me a bit, but not much or for long. Impossible with Lisa sprawled all over me and the scent of sex so heavy in the air. Plus pizza. But mostly Lisa. She made my mouth water, forget about the food. Thinking wasn't easy given the situation. I'd said I trusted her and I did.

"Baby, just think about it," she said. "There's no rush. Okay?"

"No, I think we should."

"Are you certain?"

I nodded.

She exhaled a deep breath and kissed me again.

"I fucking love your mouth." With the top of a finger she traced my lips, still swollen from what we'd been up to.

"You did like it? It was okay?"

"It was perfect. Nothing you do could be wrong. I almost lose it just knowing it's you. You could accidentally bite me and I'd probably think it was fucking hot." She gave a rough laugh, then hastened to add, "But don't do that."

"No." I arched my neck and pressed my lips to hers, kissing her sweet and slow. Showing her what she meant to me. We were still rolling around on the kitchen floor when the buzzer on the oven screeched, startling us apart. Then the phone rang.

"Shit."

"I'll get the pizza," I said, wriggling out from beneath her.

"I'll grab the phone. No one should even have this damn number."

An oven mitt sat waiting on the counter and I slipped it over my hand. Hot air and the rich scent of melted cheese wafted out when I opened the oven door. My stomach rumbled. So maybe I was hungry after all. The pizzas were a touch burnt around the edges. Nothing too bad, though. The tips of my broccoli were toasted golden brown. We could concentrate on the middle. I transferred the pizzas onto the cool stovetop and turned off the heat.

Lisa talked quietly in the background. She stood in front of the bank of windows, legs spread wide and shoulders set like she was bracing herself for an attack. Relaxed, happy people didn't strike that pose. Outside the sun was setting. The violet and gray of evening cast shadows on her skin.

"Yeah, yeah, Adrian. I know," she said.

Trepidation tightened me one muscle at a time. God, please, not now. We were doing so well. Couldn't they stay away just a little longer?

"What time's the flight?" she asked.

"Fuck," came next.

"No, we'll be there. Relax. Yeah, bye."

She turned to face me, phone dangling from her hand. "There's some stuff going on in LA that Jack and I need to be there for. Adrian's already sent a chopper for us. We all need to get ready."

My smile strained my face, I could feel it. "Okay."

"Sorry we're getting cut short here. We'll come back soon, yeah?"

"Absolutely. It's fine."

That was a lie, because we were going back to LA.